


Hope

by Kay_kat



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Post 3x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 18:31:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17854886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_kat/pseuds/Kay_kat
Summary: Hoping is a risk. But maybe it’s one she’s willing to take.My version of what happened after Chloe and Lucifer hugged in 3x06.Written in response to a discussion on Twitter.





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skydevil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skydevil/gifts), [Finally_With_You](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finally_With_You/gifts), [AnggelsWinggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnggelsWinggs/gifts).



> For Sarah, Maj and Gabs. Love you guys <3
> 
> Written after we all had a discussion on Twitter after gabs asked the question "what happens at the end of 3x06?". This thread can be found [here](https://twitter.com/kaykat666/status/1097869350256762881?s=20).  
> And a special thanks to [Sarah](https://twitter.com/Skydevil85?s=17) who is totally awesome and designed the header for my shiny new Twitter account! *Ella hugs*

She can feel the heat radiating from his hand through the thin cotton of his shirt. It seeps into her. They hold each other awkwardly, he’s slightly too far away, slightly too hesitant and leans at an angle that stops her from holding him properly. She wraps an arm around him though, her fingers idly tracing patterns over his back, feeling the material of his expensive jacket that deep down she wishes weren’t there.

Her head rests on his shoulder. Her hand on his neck. She presses her fingers into his soft skin. She swears she feels his pulse racing. Maybe it’s just her imagination. Maybe she’s just had too much to drink. But maybe it is. Maybe she can hope, even just for a second. Even though she knows she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t because Lucifer Morningstar is fire and she’s been burnt one too many times before.

That doesn’t stop her from enjoying the warmth though. Being close to him. She revels in it. Breathes in his scent, a mixture of sharp, woody cologne, whiskey, a hint of smoke and something she suspects is just him. Just _him._ Oh, how she misses him. And she realises how _ridiculous_ that is because he’s right here. They were never really together and never really apart, but after Vegas everything just seemed… _strained._ She misses the easiness of it all, the banter, the casual yet surprisingly intimate touches. She wishes it could be different and maybe it can. His words rattle around in her still slightly inebriated mind.

_“Especially to you.”_

Hoping is a risk. But maybe it’s one she’s willing to take.

When he reluctantly pulls away, she’s left feeling bereft. She doesn’t know how long they were sat there like that, but it was more than just a hug between friends. It was something… _special_. She can see the uncertainty plastered on his face. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wishes it could’ve lasted longer and the look on his face makes her think that maybe he does too. For a moment she lets her mind wonder. Imagines falling asleep with his arms wrapped around her. Imagines never having to let go because she doesn’t want to let go. She really doesn’t.

He shifts on the bed, awkwardly rubbing his hands over his thighs like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. And then she realises that’s because she’s in his bed in the middle of the night uninvited, their friends passed out on his couch and— _God_ this whole thing has been stupid. She shouldn’t have come here.

She quickly pulls his black sheets up, acutely aware that beneath, her legs are very exposed. Too exposed. Maybe that’s one risk she isn’t willing to take. Not yet anyway.

“I—” She chokes on the word, clearing her throat and jerkily shaking her head as she attempts to rise, taking the sheet with her. “I should go.”

He rises, holding his hands out. She could swear she sees a flash of panic dance across his features. “No. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s late. Stay here, I’ll…” he trails off, awkwardly edging towards the doorway into the rest of the Penthouse.

“No,” she replies quickly. She doesn’t know what makes her say it. The guilt of trashing his place, raiding his closet and then kicking him out of his own bed? Perhaps. Or perhaps she just doesn’t want to miss the opportunity. “Stay. Here, I mean.” She adjusts the covers again, averting her gaze as she feels her cheeks flush. Hopefully he doesn’t notice in the dim light. She pats the bed beside her.

He remains frozen in his tracks. Blinks a few times. Swallows hard.

“Come on,” she says repeating the motion a little more firmly.

Finally, he jerks into motion and carefully walks around the bed, his eyes on her. She muses that he resembles a spooked cat, his movements wary, like if she makes too loud a noise she’ll send him running. She really doesn’t want to send him running again. So, she sits quietly, watching as he silently removes his jacket and neatly folds it, hanging it over the back of the armchair that sits in the corner of the room. He slips off his shoes and removes his belt. They never break eye contact.

He stops at the side of the bed. His eyes flit over her again. When he speaks his voice is quiet. Vulnerable. “A-are you sure?”

She nods, offering him a reassuring smile. “We’re both adults,” she replies flatly, a hint of warning in her tone. _No funny business._

He lifts the cover and gracefully slides in next to her.

“Oh, and Lucifer?”

“Yes?”

“Not a word.”

“Of course, Detective.”

She switches the light off, plunging them into almost darkness.

 

She lays there, staring up into the darkness. A single beam of moonlight cuts through the air illuminating a few specs of dust twirling around each other. He hasn’t moved since she’d turned the light off. He’s still. Completely still. His breathing hasn’t changed. It remains steady. Not deep and even that she’d expect from someone in the grasp of sleep but, careful, purposeful. Restrained almost. As if breathing is all he’s focusing on.

“Lucifer?” She whispers quietly into the void.

He hums though she can hear his surprise.

“You asleep?”

He scoffs and shuffles a little bit. “Evidently not. But I think the real question is why aren’t you?”

She takes a breath. It’s not because she’s been laying away trying to think of _why_ he kept the bullet she shot him with. Definitely not. No, she hasn’t been thinking that at all. Nor has she been thinking that maybe their partnership means just as much to him as it does to her. And she most certainly has not been thinking that maybe he made a mistake and maybe he regrets it more than she’d realised.

“I was just thinking,” she replies with a sigh.

“About?”

“Us.” He doesn’t lie to her and she tries her best to show him the same courtesy.

“Oh.”

“I was just thinking, it’s funny isn’t it? If someone would’ve told me two years ago about all this, our partnership— _friendship_ , I would’ve called them crazy. But now here we are….”

He hums. Silence falls between them. It isn’t quite awkward. Suddenly he breaks the silence. “I never thought any of this could be possible. Not for me. Not for the longest time.”

She doesn’t know what he’s been through, not exactly. But she knows whatever it was, it scarred him, both physically and mentally. He doesn’t think he’s worthy and that… that makes her heart hurt. “I’m glad I met you.”

He shuffles again, pausing for a long moment before replying, “as am I.”

“I mean, who would bring me coffee if I didn’t have you?” She laughs.

He joins her, his chuckle seems loud in the piercing quiet of the apartment.

“Dan never could get it how I like it.”

“No wonder you dumped him.”

She huffs. “It was mutual actually.”

“Right.” She can hear the smugness in his voice and can imagine the smirk on his lips.

 

The night draws on. They lay side by side lost in a deep, conversation. Nothing to hear but the sound of each other’s voices. It’s vaguely reminiscent of her sleepovers as a kid. Her and her best friend would stay up talking until eventually one or both of them drifted off. Except their conversation never wanes. It’s easy. It feels right. She finds herself laughing more than she has done in weeks.

Eventually the sun dips above the horizon, colouring his bedroom a golden-orange hue. For the first time that day she chances a look at him. He’s half sunk into a black pillow, his sharp features illuminated by the dawn’s first light. His hair is mused, whatever product he uses to keep it so perfectly coiffed wearing off. A stray curl rebelliously falls onto his forehead. It makes him look younger. Innocent even. In the moment she can see the image clearly, of a young boy, a little bit too tall and thin for his age, lanky even. Dark curls falling free around his young, slightly freckled face.

Her stomach rumbles interrupting her musings. It’s still early and neither of them have slept a wink but, when he offers to make breakfast she doesn’t refuse.

The smile that graces his face as he slides out of bed tells her that maybe, just maybe, he’s as happy as she is.

 

She sits at the breakfast bar in the sleek, modern looking kitchen, her head propped up on one hand as she leans on the shiny, black counter. She watches him as he moves swiftly around the kitchen and lets herself wonder what could’ve been if he hadn’t left. Would she be here right now? Would she, or they, be somewhere else? Or would she have her arms loosely wrapped around his waist, her stomach pressed to his back, trailing kisses between his shoulder blades as he cooks?

She can dream.

For now, she just admires the way he moves around the kitchen seemingly knowing everything’s rightful place without having to take a second look. He turns and slides a cup of coffee towards her, smiling softly. She smiles back, wrapping her fingers around it.

Eventually the smell of food attracts Linda and Dan. They slowly amble into the room looking tired and a little worse for wear. Dan rubs his head and then his neck, sheepishly averting his gaze as he grumbles a good morning and plonks himself down beside her. Linda though looks from her to Lucifer, her gaze lingering on her and then flickering to him, no doubt noticing his mused hair. A knowing smile spreads across her lips but she doesn’t say anything, simply sets herself down and says good morning. She knows though. Somehow, she always knows.

 

When they’re fed and changed and finally ready to leave, they linger by the elevator. Dan apologises, picking his tool box up from the floor and offers to pay for the damages. Lucifer waves him off with a small laugh. Linda leans in close, a hand on his arm and says something that she doesn’t quite catch. A soft smile graces his lips and his eyes twinkle as she says goodbye.

She takes a breath as she watches the other two shuffle into the elevator, leaving them with a little bit of privacy. She steps closer to him, her hand briefly touching the metal that hangs at her neck before she wraps her arms around him. He tenses and she can feel his surprise, after a moment though he relaxes into her embrace. She’s not sure why she does it. A thank you for the present, or maybe, an apology for having a party in his apartment. They say nothing. And if she lingers a little bit longer than she should, well… he doesn’t complain.

And if that causes hope to blossom in her chest, that’s okay too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Follow me on Twitter if you fancy having a chat about Lucifer, Deckerstar or anything really [@kaykat666](https://twitter.com/kaykat666). Thanks for reading!


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